Chapter 27 #3
RB glanced around the room. “I think so. It’s only for a few months, like a sabbatical, basically. Long enough to get the shelter up and running, train the permanent staff. But it’s good work. Important work.”
Hannah shifted beside Janie. “But the garage—”
“Will be fine without me for a few months,” RB said. “You guys can handle things. And it’s not forever. I’ll be back by spring, probably earlier. But this feels like something I need to do.”
Gabe stepped up to RB and grasped her shoulder. “You should do it. I knew Hank had lit a fire under your ass when he talked about it.”
“Really?” RB’s shoulders visibly dropped an inch. “You’re not pissed I’m bailing?”
“You’re not bailing, you’re growing.” Shay moved to the other side of RB and punched her arm.
“After Hank told us about his plans, we’ve all been talking about how we could do more, how we wanted to help vets who’re struggling.
You’re actually going to do it.” She raised her wine glass. “That’s something else to celebrate.”
RB’s eyes shone. “I’m going to miss you assholes.”
“We’ll miss you too,” Hannah said. “But we’ll see you over the holidays, right?”
Her grip on Janie’s hand tightened to the point where Janie had to tap Hannah’s forearm, but Hannah relaxed when RB nodded.
“You can count on that,” RB said. “That’s one of the things we promised we’d always do once we were all civvies again.”
“Plus,” Woody said, “maybe you’ll actually learn to fold your clothes properly while you’re living in New York. The rest of us are tired of your slob habits.”
The room erupted in laughter, the tension breaking. RB flipped Woody off and grinned. “My slob habits are part of my charm.”
“That’s definitely one word for it,” Gabe said. “It’s not the right word, but…” She grabbed RB around the neck and scrubbed the top of her head.
The party continued, people breaking into smaller conversations, the energy warm and celebratory.
Janie slipped her arm around Hannah’s waist. “Are you good?”
Hannah cleared her throat and looked everywhere but at Janie. “Uh-huh.”
Janie put her finger under Hannah’s chin and made her meet her eyes. “It’s short-term, Han. She’ll be back before you know it.”
Hannah tilted her head slightly. “I hope you’re right. Hank’s project is the kind of work RB was born to do, and it’s national. What about when Hank wants to open the next one in Boston, and the next one in DC?” She threw her arms out and clenched her jaw. “New York could just be the start.”
Janie grasped Hannah’s hands and stilled them. “Whatever happens, you won’t lose her. She’ll always be there for you.”
Hannah looked into Janie’s eyes. “Like you will be?”
Her vulnerability almost undid Janie, and she pulled Hannah into her arms. “Yes, like I will be. Always.”
“Okay,” Gabe shouted, startling Janie. “Let’s get back to the party!”
A while later, Maria approached Janie as she placed some spring rolls and satay sticks on her plate. They moved to a quieter corner of the garage where they could actually hear each other over the loud music Woody was DJing badly.
“You look happy, mija,” Maria said. “As if, perhaps, you might one day be at peace.”
“I’m working on it.” Janie gave a small smile, recognizing that Maria was one of the few people to understand that she’d be a work in progress for a long time, possibly until she died.
But that was okay. That was life. “I’m starting to feel like myself again.
And I’m not constantly waiting for something bad to happen.
” She wrinkled her nose. “Just maybe every other day.”
Maria chuckled. “You’re healing,” she said then sipped her wine before looking over the edge of her glass at Janie. “Have you heard from your mother since the confrontation?”
“No. And I’m hoping I never will.” Janie went silent for a moment. Saying that aloud made it even more real, and the truth of it comforted her soul like a home-crocheted blanket wrapped around it. “I think she got the message.”
“Good. You deserve to live free of her judgment and manipulation. It’s time for you to live the life you want, not the one she thought you should have.”
“You helped me see that. You, and Rae, and Hannah all helped me see that I was worth fighting for.” She held out her hand, and Maria took it. “Thank you.”
Maria’s smile was warm. “You’ve always been worth fighting for. You just needed to believe it yourself.”
They talked for a while longer about inconsequential things, until Janie plucked up the courage to quiz Maria on her past. They’d spent so much of their time unpicking Janie’s issues, but Janie wanted to explore a deeper friendship with Maria now that she was on the right track.
“Do you ever regret walking away from Hollywood?”
“Never. Because what I gave up was performing, pretending, living for other people’s applause.
What I gained was authenticity. Truth. A life that’s mine, lived on my terms.” Maria looked around the garage and gestured to the gathering of Janie’s friends and family.
“This is what matters. Community. Love. Being there for each other, no matter what. Fame, and money, and other people’s opinions are all worthless in comparison. ”
“My grandmother used to say something similar. She said the only thing that mattered at the end of your life was whether you loved well and were loved in return.” Janie swallowed hard. “I miss her.”
“Your grandmother was a wise woman.”
“She was.” Janie glanced over at Hannah talking animatedly to RB, probably getting her to promise to come home. “I wish she could see the life I’m living.”
“I think she knows.” Maria tapped her nose and looked upward. “And I think she’s very proud.”
Hannah caught her eye and wandered over to them. “Sorry to interrupt, but the girls are getting cranky. We should probably head home soon and get them to bed.”
“Of course.” Maria hugged Janie warmly. “Thank you for letting me be part of this celebration. It’s been an honor watching you find your strength.”
After Maria and Mirta left, Janie helped wrangle the triplets into their coats while Hannah wound the party down and thanked everyone for coming.
Gabe and RB pulled Hannah aside near the door, and Janie watched them talk in low voices, heads close together.
Instead of being envious, as she once had been, joy rose in Janie’s heart.
Their friendship had been forged in the fires of war and would last forever, regardless of distance or time.
Janie’s friendship with Maria had risen from the ashes of a different war, one Janie fought with herself, but she knew in her heart, it too would last for years to come.
And she’d treasure it like the precious find that it was.
Shay refused their help to clear up, and Carmen and Tom volunteered to take the girls so Hannah and Janie could have a little alone time on the drive home.
“Thank you,” Janie said after they slipped into her car, “for loving me enough to do something this thoughtful.”
Hannah clicked her seatbelt into place then covered Janie’s hand with her own. “You deserve to be celebrated. I wanted you to know how many people love you and are in your corner.”
“I know it…at least for today.” Janie rested her head on Hannah’s shoulder, and Hannah pulled her closer into her arms.
They sat there for a moment in the quiet of the car, and Janie sighed quietly as that love settled deep in her bones.
This was home. It wasn’t the house with the triplets’ toys scattered everywhere and the crayon masterpieces on the walls.
It wasn’t the garage with its smell of motor oil and paint.
It wasn’t, and would never be, any physical place.
Home was right here with Hannah’s arms around her, facing the future with the certainty that no matter what came next, she didn’t have to handle it alone.
Whatever hard days and challenges were thrust before her, no matter how difficult the ongoing work was to manage her depression while being a mother, and a wife, and herself, they’d face it, and overcome it, together.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” Hannah said, her voice thick with emotion. “I want you to know that too.”
Tears slid down Janie’s cheeks, but she no longer cared about her makeup. These were good tears, filled with gratitude and overwhelming love. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you,” she said. “You saved me, Han. You saved us.”
“We saved each other.”
Hannah’s kiss levitated Janie from her leather seat, filling her with the same excitement and thrill as the touch of Hannah’s lips had when they’d kissed for the first time.
She moaned into Hannah’s mouth and deepened the kiss, the rest of her responding, eager to go further.
When Hannah pulled back, Janie stuck out her bottom lip. “Tease.”
Hannah grinned. “It’s not teasing if I follow through when we get home,” she said.
Janie threw the car into reverse. “That’s as good as a promise, and you—”
“Always keep my promises,” Hannah said and wiggled her eyebrows.
Janie pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward their house, their daughters, and the promise of love in so many forms. She looked over at Hannah and the small smile playing on her lips, and Janie’s heart expanded with so much love she thought it might burst from her chest.
She thought about her grandmother, about Maria, about all the women surrounding her and showing her what strength looked like. She thought about her mother and the decades of shame, criticism, and impossible standards that Janie had finally relinquished her death grip on.
She thought about her daughters, about the family she’d chosen and who’d chosen her back, about the garage crew who’d become her tribe, and about their messy, imperfect, and absolutely beautiful life.
And she thought about Hannah and the promises they’d made to each other: to keep talking and showing up. To keep fighting for their love and their family, and the life they were building together.
The depression guaranteed she’d have bad days. The triplets would be challenging, especially as they headed toward puberty and their teen years. Work would be stressful, and life would throw them curveballs.
But she wasn’t alone to face any of it.
And that made all the difference.
Janie pulled into the curb and turned off the Lexus, but neither of them moved to get out. They just sat there for a moment, hands clasped between them, looking at their house lit up from within.
“Ready?” Hannah asked.
Janie squeezed her hand. “Ready.”
They walked up the path together, toward the warmth, the light, and the unconditional love waiting inside; toward their daughters and their bright, beautiful future; and toward everything they’d fought for and everything they’d won.
Toward home.
Janie stepped inside, and the bedlam of bedtime routines, toddler giggles, and Tom’s laughter from the kitchen cascaded over her.
She smiled widely, knowing, deep in her core, that this was everything she’d ever wanted and needed.
She’d finally found her way back to herself, not to the person her mother had wanted her to be, or the perfect version she’d tried so hard to become, but the real Janie. Flawed and struggling. Brave and loved.
Exactly as she was meant to be. And with the woman she was meant to be with.
Something profound struck her so hard and definitively that it almost took her breath away.
She didn’t need every fear named, or every wound explained, or every doubt unraveled.
What mattered was that the unspoken no longer stood between them, and they were safe inside the love they chose, again and again.